


Call My Name

by Roriette



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Dark, Death, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Necrophilia, Trauma, Twisted, not the happiest story out there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 05:58:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1376431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roriette/pseuds/Roriette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erwin held one of the lifeless hands in his own, larger ones, and brought it up to his lips. The tan skin was paling. It was cold.</p><p>He ignored it and kissed each and every one of the calloused fingertips. He would just heat them with his own. The cold never lasted.</p><p>"I'll be here when you wake up. Sleep well, Eren."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> for the kink meme, for lovely op and a!readers. Heavily centered on Erwin being twisted with Eren's dead body (in a gentle way).
> 
>  _We don't know what is wrong tonight_  
>  Everybody's got no place to hide  
> No one's left and there's no one to go on  
> All i know is my life is gone  
> \- "Call Your Name" ; aot/snk OST.

"That's not Eren."  
  
The deafening silence in the eerie, solemn cathedral was sliced open. The priest stopped mumbling his religious quotes, people stopped crying, and they all turned to look at the first row.  
  
The silence was cut, and the wound was a shaking Mikasa. Her silky black hair was drenched and twisted by the rain. Angry wet droplets trickled onto the stone floor, into her uniform, and everyone was staring.  
  
"That's not Eren. Give me Eren."  
  
They exchanged looks, nodded. They sympathized. But in their mind, they were all thinking the same, condescending thought:  _Wake up already, Mikasa. Eren's right here. His corpse is right here. He's dead. You can't fool yourself any longer. He's dead._  
  
"Why are you all just standing here? Are you all blind? Did the titans cut your eyes and your brains too? The real Eren's not here. Where are you hiding him?"

She took a deep, shuddering breath, her entire frame shaking. 

_"I said_ , THE REAL EREN ISN'T HERE!" her wretched scream tore from her throat, the madden roar shaking the stainless windows, rocking them in their frames, and the stunned individuals - 104th trainees, the mass of the Recon Corp, friends, superiors, comrades, believers of Eren - none of them knew what to do.

  
_Is she out of it?  
  
She's out of her mind.  
  
Poor girl.  
  
I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, Eren. I'm sorry, and now Mikasa, too...  
  
She must still be shock. What should we do?_  
  
"Mikasa," Armin spoke up. His voice was weak. He was a frozen mess, sodden Survey Corp uniform, wet, disheveled blonde hair, blue eyes trembling in their sockets. He forced himself to look at his fallen best friend -  _this can't be happening_  - resting in the open casket.  
  
Even in death, Eren's brows were knitted together, furrowed with determination. He was still armored in his uniform, the green cloak of the Recon Corp wrapped around his shoulders, contrasting against the white roses under his lifeless body.  
  
Armin clenched his fists and swallowed the choking urge to cry.  
  
"It's him," he said. He sounded broken, even to himself. He didn't know how he managed to speak at all. "Mikasa, it's Eren. It's really Eren." He reached out his arm and lightly touched Mikasa's trembling shoulders, expecting any minute to be shoved away. Mikasa let him attempt to comfort her, but he knew she was tuning out everything in her rage. "Eren, h-h-he...he's dead."  
  
That was when Mikasa snapped, and when Armin closed his eyes, knowing he had crossed the line. She unsheathed her 3D maneuver knives, and all of a sudden, the silent cathedral erupted in alarmed cries and movements. People were shouting, glass was shattered, the zipping and propelling of 3D gear sounded; a riot broke out.  
  
"Stop her!"  
  
Mikasa knocked out each and every opponent with the blunt edge of her weapons. Her movements were precise, fast, and mindless, her flurried violence an outlet for her anger and hardened sadness.  
  
Armin stood still, warm tears running down his cheeks, his mentality torn between grief and logic. An arm around his shoulder surprised him, and he looked to see the eccentric titan researcher, Hange, next to him.   
  
She was wearing a smile different from her usual excited grin. Her brown eyes were fixated on the stationary corpse of Eren, in spite of the riot overtaking the funeral in the cathedral.   
  
"What do you think about the white roses?" she asked.  
  
Armin followed her gaze, sent prayers upon prayers to his best friend, and brushed aside his sorrow to answer his superior. "They're beautiful."  
  
"Indeed. Unblemished, intricate things."  
  
"They symbolize purity, innocence, and reverence. Traditional for funerals," Armin added quietly. Helplessly.  
  
"Correct." Hange leaned in, and Armin could feel her breath on his ear. "But not here. Here, they represent unending endurance and  _true love_. Undeterred by hardships, untainted by other colors, and forever engraved by undying devotion. Romantic, isn't it?"  
  
Armin nodded slowly, confusion settling in his face.  _True love? Eren? Who..._  
  
"But is the message for the deceased or the living?"  
  
Who chose these white roses? What did Hange know that the rest of them didn't know?  
  
Armin scrutinized the brown mat of hair illuminated angelically like a halo by the colorless petals. The familiar tan skin, steadily losing its color and turning a sheen of light blue, pale, the closed eyelids, the bone structures, from Eren's head to his booted feet - what did Mikasa mean by...  
  
"Say, Mikasa and Commander Erwin are very alike, don't you think so, Armin?" Hange's voice startled him, and he riveted his befuddled attention on the scientist, whose wry grin continued to widen. He kept quiet, but the rapid thudding of his heartbeat was intense and relentless. The nervous blood rush pounded in his ears as the questions ran through his mind.  _Who...what...why?_  
  
"Normally, they're both so in control. Calculative and calm. Impassive. They don't let people in easily. They have a cold demeanor, and they're both hard to read. But what's interesting is what happens when they  _break_." Her speech was quickening, and he knew it was from excitement. "When they break, they fall apart, and they fall apart  _fast_. They're not as calm, collected, or rational as you'd think. Right, Armin?" Hange squeezed his shoulder before unhooking her arm from his frozen figure and stepping back, the unnerving smile still plastered on her grinning mouth.   
  
What...  
  
"Red is too bold, too bloody, and too unfitting," Hange lowered her voice, and Armin realized she was imitating a male. "At least, that's what I was told. So, in the end, he chose white. Oh, sorry," she apologized, laughing sheepishly at the question in Armin's eyes, "I mean, Commander Erwin. He picked out the white roses, and he put them in the casket, one by one."  
  
"He did..." Armin gasped. The fateful white was in his peripheral vision. "T-then.."  
  
Hange's glasses glinted under the shine of the stainless windows. The riot behind them had toned down; Mikasa had been captured and detained. Armin felt cold sweat coat his entire body.  
  
"That's right." Hange fixed her lenses. "The 'real' Eren isn't here. What do you think about my imitation team? Aren't they just simply immaculate?"  
  
Armin slowly dropped to his knees, shivering and shaking, shock written all over his face, skin pale like he hadn't slept for days.  
  
"Love is such a twisted thing. But we wouldn't be human if we weren't twisted."  
\--------------------

  
\---------

  
\---

  
-  
  
"It's certainly loud and noisy outside," commander Erwin remarked, closing the curtains over the rain-splattered window panes. He stood for a moment, with his arms behind his back, impassively pensive, as if he were contemplating tomorrow's weather. Then, he left his post and crossed over to the generously sized bed, where a figure lay, motionless and pressed into the soft mattress. A thick blanket covered him from the collar down.  
  
"But you're still sleeping, so it hasn't bothered you. I'm glad," murmured Erwin, a small smile resting on his stern, chiseled face. He sat down, his weight causing the figure on the bed to shift slightly. It was physics, but he wouldn't bother to think of it as such. Erwin held one of the lifeless hands in his own, larger ones, and brought it up to his lips. The tan skin was paling. It was cold.  
  
He ignored it and kissed each and every one of the calloused fingertips. He would just heat them with his own. The cold never lasted.  
  
"I'll be here when you wake up. Sleep well, Eren."

\---------------------

\--------

\---

-

"You need to drink, Eren."  
  
The  _drip, drop_  of rain outside met the windows, and the world outside was so far away.   
  
Erwin lit the scentless candle with a match, and the darkness sank into warmth.   
  
 _Drip. Drip._  
  
"Water is essential. Every soldier knows this. Are you not a soldier, Eren?"  
  
Eren didn't reply. His lips remained sealed, even when Erwin nudged a glass cup of water against his mouth, the sickly hue of blue, loss of blood, visible on his tan skin.  
  
"It's an order. Drink, Eren." Erwin pressed more firmly and succeeded in making those sweet, pale lips cave. "There," the commander cooed softly, his icy blue eyes watching the drops of water slip into Eren's mouth. Then, they trickled back out, down the side of the motionless bottom lip, sinking into the cotton blanket.   
  
Erwin's irises tightened briefly. "Eren, don't be stubborn." He wiped the stray droplets of the rejected liquid from the boy's chin with his thumb, brushing the latter's skin gently. Tender movement, affectionate chastising, all the time in the world.   
  
"You won't eat, won't drink, won't say anything. What's wrong, Eren? Is it because I have been too busy lately to pay you proper attention? Have I been neglecting you? Is that why you won't say anything?" Amusement playing in the lackadaisical murmur, low voice covered in velvet; Erwin was charismatic, a natural charmer, a born leader. He carded through the soft strands of chestnut brown, the feel of the cascading locks on his fingers leaving behind pleasant tingles. "Or is it because I have been pushing you too hard?"   
  
The flickering candlelight drew shadows, and the illusion of a smile on Eren's lifeless face danced and fled. Fleeting. Erwin didn't delude; it was beneath him. He didn't waste time on whimsical things that didn't produce results, but he caught it all the same, that simple trick of the mind, and he knew it wasn't a delusion.   
  
He leaned down, hovered over the brunet, his mouth millimeters from Eren's, and he closed the distance. Captured the boy, what a sleeping beauty he was, innocent, untainted and all, but with the spirit of a tiger, a predator, in a battle cage. He lingered there, the taste of something raw, a familiar scent -  _carcass_  - and he let his warmth seep into the cold lips. If he stayed, maybe if he stayed there, if not forever, then enough, eventually those cold lips would come alive.  
  
Maybe if he could breathe life back into him, Eren would finally open his eyes.  
  
Those forest green eyes that he adored,  _missed_ , longed to see, where were they, why were they closed, who took them -  
  
Maybe if he never agreed to that expedition, Eren would have -  
  
Something warm sank into his hand, coating his palm from the back of Eren's neck.   
  
\- No.  
  
He withdrew the hand, cold, subzero blues staring down at the pool of dirty, cursed red.  
  
No.  
  
The crimson stained his skin and trailed in serpentine streaks down his wrist, sliding into his sleeve.  
  
Warm.   
  
Composed, with a detached manner, Erwin licked the trail of red up his strong wrist bones to the etched lines on his open palm. Lukewarm iron running like molten syrup down his throat, into his bloodstream.   
  
Rivers of red, staining his thin lips; they colored his stoic complexion. The same rivulets of red congealing behind Eren's head. He'd seen this color too many times to count. How many have died, splattered in this crimson galore, how many did he have to see, covered in this gore, how should he hold himself together this time -  
  
The same, forbidding red spilling from the horizontal gash on the back of Eren's neck.  
  
\- No.  
  
The amusement died, had long died, in Erwin's eyes.  
  
 _Shfff._  
  
"Who did this to you?"  
  
Eren's doll-like figure was tugged up, and Erwin held him close, his strong arms coming around and wrapping the lithe, lifeless boy against him. Protection, possession, nothing else mattered. He was everything to him.  
  
Eren's face was pressed into Erwin's muscled chest, smaller figure wrapped and covered in a much larger body, until he was almost shrouded entirely by the commander. Eren kneeled on the bed, arms dangling loosely, resembling such a still doll, so little life, such nothingness. Erwin refused that nothingness. Even if nothing were left, he would grasp onto its tails. He pulled the latter in tightly, compressing the heatless body with his own, until he could suffocate Eren with possession.  
  
"Who did this to you, Eren?" he repeated, might have growled, could have, and didn't. He kissed the top of Eren's head. "Tell me."  
  
Calm, low, steady vibrations, comforting.   
  
Anything but urgent, nothing but patience. Take it slow; Eren didn't respond well to pressure. Take it slow, stay calm,  _they will pay_.  
  
"Even if you don't tell me, I will find out." He rubbed and caressed Eren's shoulder blades, down his spinal cord, to the small of his back, everywhere he touched was his, everything that was Eren belonged to him,  _who dared to draw a weapon on his Eren, who signed the death wish, they signed their life to the devil, how dare they_.  
  
"I know, you don't have to say anything."   
  
Eren was limp against him, and Erwin held him up, his chin resting on the boy's soft hair.  
  
"I will take care of them."  
  
His prominent, aristocratic face unreadable, and he laid Eren back down on the bed, like he was a delicate being, because he was a delicate being, and fragile, no, he knew now to never let Eren out of his sight. He knew now that no one else could protect him better than he, himself. Humanity placed such high hopes on his Eren, and he had placed the wrong bet by allowing humanity just a little bit of freedom.  
  
"Hange."  
  
His cold eyes slowly scrolled over to the scientist, who was saluting, a knowing grin stretching wide over her deranged expression as she stood in the open door to his chamber.  
  
"Yes, sir, commander Erwin, sir, how can I be of service this evening?"   
  
"You have done well."  
  
Hange's eyes gleamed behind her round glasses. "Those materials worked great. Couldn't have done it without them."  
  
"Titan skin can be molded into many things," Erwin agreed. He glanced behind the researcher. "Where's Levi?"  
  
"Sick."  
  
"Sick?"   
  
"Might be taking his favorite number two, who knows?" Hange said, a wry grin curling her lip. She discreetly peeked into the room, and Erwin stepped forward, closing the door behind him with a sound  _click_. Hange didn't even bother to cover up her disappointment.  
  
"We're going to the main conference room to go over expedition 102."  
  
The closing of the door was the switch.  
  
Hange followed the commander wordlessly, knowing that as soon as Erwin Smith returned to his private chamber, he would turn another breaking page. He was the most interesting when that happened.  
  
Hange smiled and greeted anyone who bothered to look her way at the conference, her aura obnoxiously reeking a public disturbance. She barely sat down before the corporal, Levi, abruptly turned up and kicked her in the shin.  
  
"Oh, what a pleasant surprise to see you here at the meeting, corporal! I almost thought you were really sick, but I guess you're not  _really_  sick, after all. You're just a little scared of what's in that room, aren't you?"  
  
"Shut the fuck up," Levi grounded out before knocking Hange's head down on the conference table, nearly smashing her glasses in the process.

\----------------

\--------

\---

-

"Death. The commander carried the stench of death with him."  
  
Morbid statement, a morbidly true statement - a morbid fact.  
  
Hange, Mike, and Levi stood outside of the conference room after it ended. They were the last ones to leave. It wasn't surprising; they were the three who held the most responsibilities in the Recon Corp, so it was common for them to remain when the lower ranked members were dismissed.  
  
But today, they stayed behind because they were the only ones with doubts heavy enough to dampen their legs.  
  
"Normally, I don't smell anything from the commander, but in the meeting, the smell of it was all over the place," Mike recalled.  
  
Hange leaned over, fixing her glasses with both hands. "Hm, hm, hm, I wonder. Commander Erwin is usually very good at being mysterious. What scent do you think it is? The lovely incense of downed titans?" she suggested, an excited glint flashing in her eyes. "Or," she lowered her voice to a dramatic whisper, "the death of a human?"  
  
Mike's eyes widened slightly.   
  
"Cut the shit, Hange," Levi glowered, short stature backing off the wall to the conference room and turning his back on his comrades. "I'm going out. Don't look for me."  
  
"Corporal!" called Hange, hands cupping each side of her mouth to better vocalize her shout. "They moved it to the outskirts of Sina! If you head that way, the military's cathedral will just kick you out!"  
  
Levi scowled, wordlessly leaving the Recon headquarters, his green cloak flapping with his strides.  
  
Hange smiled.   
  
"Visiting the deceased?" Mike asked quietly.  
  
"No doubt 'bout it. That's corporal Levi for ya!"   
  
"He smells different today."  
  
Curious, Hange glanced at the mustached dirty blonde. Mike Zacharias had a sharp nose. No one would argue that.  
  
"And he sat unusually far from the commander. Usually, he plops right next to him, but today he sat two seats down. As if he's unsure, or disturbed. He smells like a man who reacquainted with uncertainty."  
  
"Uncertainty, huh."   
  
Mike nodded.  
  
A short silence passed in the empty hallway.  
  
"We're humans, aren't we?" Hange said, a short while after.  
  
Mike didn't reply.  
  
It was undeniable that they were humans. If they weren't humans, what were they?   
  
"We fight, because we want to open the portal to the world outside. We research, so we can surmount our fears. We look up to the strong and wish we can be like them. Like the commander, or the corporal. Mankind's leader, humanity's strongest."  
  
Mike tipped his head in agreement. He didn't need his voice to support her claim, because it was the truth, and truths were the only things that weren't flawed.  
  
"That's why commander Erwin is always right, and corporal Levi's life is worth more than an entire brigade. As long as we believe it, we can triumph."  
  
"Without belief, we have no hope," Mike said.  
  
Hange looked up at the white ceiling. "Isn't it funny?" A smile spread over her face, but it was a smile that could be meaningful yet chosen to represent nothing.   
  
Maybe it was a smile he couldn't figure out, no matter how sensitive his olfactory receptors were. Maybe it was a smile that was nothing but Hange's whimsical humor.  
  
"What is?" he implored, even though he knew he was only willingly letting himself be pulled into the scientist's mindloop.   
  
Hange's eyes flickered to him briefly. "What is it, now?" she hummed.   
  
 _He knew it._  
  
Despite so, he stayed, waiting, knowing that eventually Hange would break the loop.  
  
"Don't you think, sometimes, that it'd be great if we were mindless titans?"  
  
Hange had always been odd. She wouldn't be so great at her job as the head of titan research if she weren't. And it was odder, then, that Mike found himself agreeing with her.  
  
Because in the end, he was human, and humans were weak, no matter how they covered their stumbling tracks. He started to understand what that smile meant.  
  
Hange turned her back on him, her messy ponytail swaying.   
  
As her footsteps faded into the opposite end of the corridor, to where he presumed was her lab, her trailing words resounded in his ears.  
  
"That even the strongest is powerless against death."  
\-----------------------

  
\------------

  
\-----

  
\--  
 _Knock. Knock._  
  
"It's me, commander," Hange announced.  
  
"Come in," the deep, undeterred voice of mankind's leader responded.  
  
Surprised at the ease in which she was permitted entrance, Hange turned the knob and quickly stepped in before the privilege was withdrawn.  
  
Her eyes dilated and got used to the dark, and her mouth slowly dropped open.  
  
The sight before her was chilling.  
  
Chilling and  _beautiful._  
  
It was night, and the wide window was open, curtains billowing against the cold breeze, crescent moonlight outlining the silhouettes on the single chair. The moon beam was something sacred, casting its rays of something baptismal, cleansing -  _a blessing_  - on the pair of intertwined bodies.   
  
The single chair was occupied by Erwin, hand holding up a novel, eyes immersed, if not seemingly, into the book, still clad in his military uniform. On his lap was a sleeping figure, his smaller body pressed against the commander's, head leaning on the elder's chest and legs dangling on each side of Erwin's lap. He was, from what Hange could tell, completely naked, save for the long, green cloak embellished by the signature Wings of Freedom emblem - Erwin's cloak - adorning his body.  
  
The symbol was illuminated by the gleam of moonlight.  
  
Eren, the wings of freedom.  _Erwin's_  wings. Fallen, crippled things, entrapped by the moon.   
  
Chilling. Chillingly beautiful.   
  
Erwin's gaze riveted on the speechless scientist.  
  
"What is it, Hange?"   
  
Hand still folding the novel open, his arm encircling Eren's waist, Erwin was impeccable in his neat and tidy appearance, expression stoic and calculating, and the message was clear.  
  
 _Come closer if you don't fear death._  
  
Hange gulped down the flutters of fright and the overwhelming desire to run. Swallowed her fear, she was the only one who dared, despite how powerless she was in comparison. Because, no matter how they tried to fight it, they couldn't hide from death. Neither mankind's leader nor humanity's strongest.  
  
"Eren must be frozen, commander."

The quiet statement was caught by the sway of the cold autumn breeze. Hange stood still, frozen, heart escalating with each ticking silence.  
  
Fear and excitement raced across her nerves; she was curious and afraid simultaneously. Any second now, her head could be cut off. Any minute now, she could topple with nausea.   
  
With grating tension like a torturous nail-pulling device, the commander finally broke the silence, his inexplicable blues sweeping over her, leaving nothing but a blank message, "I'm afraid I don't understand," and added, as if intentionally, on second thought (perhaps she was merely a second thought after all, something meddling and insignificant), "Hange."  
  
The addressed scientist cleared her throat, her muscles tensed. "If we don't freeze Eren up soon, he will fully...decompose."  
  
 _Tick. Tick._  
  
Bated breath and blood pounding in her ears, that was the feeling she got when the blonde commander slowly locked onto her nervously determined face. It was like standing before a titan and knowing that she could be eaten anytime. It was the first time she felt like such easy prey in front of Erwin Smith, mankind's leader. She could retract her steps and act as if she never said what she wasn't supposed to say, but, when she thought about withdrawing, she saw Eren.  
  
The deceased Eren Jaeger, forced to act like he were momentarily alive. Such a young boy, still in his pubescent years, the one who carried the biggest burden humanity could entrust unto. A boy who'd been through more than man could go through in his entire life. He never knew peace, and even in death, he couldn't be put to rest.   
  
Because the living wouldn't let him go.   
  
When she thought about how unfair it was to a boy like Eren Jaeger, who was so earnest about mankind's survival, who was so undeserving of this kind of meaningless death, who died because of something he had little to no control over, she felt she had to do something. She had to do it, even if she risked her own life.  
  
"Commander Erwin."  
  
His expression was blank, but she knew, nonetheless, that  _he_  knew. The walls he had built up subconsciously to protect his world, to create this fictional sanctuary, were going to tumble and crack.  
  
The page Erwin was on for the last half hour flipped itself, the wind its engines, and the green cloak covering the lifeless brunet fluttered in its aftermath.  
  
"I, Hange Zoe, officially report Survey Corp cadet Eren Jaeger's death in battle."  
  
Her voice trembled, but she saluted powerfully, and that was all that mattered.  
  
She watched as Erwin watched her. He closed the novel and put it down on the table next to the chair. Then, he intertwined his hands on the small of Eren's back. Every movement was refined, harmless, and natural. It was so natural that it ran shivers up and down Hange's spine.   
  
"Eren Jaeger's...death?"  
  
The smell of a rotten organism followed the inquiry. The wind dragged it out the window. Hange breathed.  
  
"Yes." She clenched her hands. "He passed away in expedition 45."  
  
"The reason for death?"  
  
He sounded calm. Too calm. Hange felt prickles, uneasy tingles. She adjusted her glasses. She'd already come this far; there was no point in hiding or covering it up with lies.  
  
"He transformed into his titan form and lost control amidst battle. He assaulted corporal Levi and was deemed a threat, causing The Special Ops squadron to dispose him as a result. Doing so, they abandoned protocol and ignored orders from both Levi and me. It was...understandable. This occurred early in the morning, around three AM."  
  
Erwin nodded his head.  
  
Hange let out a very small sigh in relief.   
  
Perhaps it was the right move, after all.  
  
"Hence, the best thing to do right now - the best thing for  _Eren_ ," she stressed, even though she knew she was treading bottomless water, "is to keep his body in below zero in order to stump the decomposition process. For that to happen, he would have to be taken into my lab. I will take extreme caution and care, so you have no worries, commander." She didn't mention the extreme caution with which she would handle the experiments on Eren's corpse, since a titan shifter's body, dead or alive, holds great value, but that was because she had a premonition that Erwin wouldn't like it very much if she did brought it up. Plus, she needed all the good graces she could get to accomplish her end goal: take Eren Jaeger's corpse away from the commander.  
  
"That's a shame."  
  
Hange heard the disinterest shrouded cleverly in that solemn statement.  
  
Erwin played with the brown strands of the boy seated on his lap, and Hange felt like an intruder.  
  
"I hope his soul finds peace. He was a brave soldier, a daring and earnest man."  
  
Hange watched in morbid fascination, could only watch, as if she were bewitched, when the commander kissed Eren's pale forehead, his lips lingering, hovering over the boy. As if it pained him to be so close, and it pained him to part.  
  
"It's getting late, Hange." Erwin glanced at her out of the corners of his eyes. "You must be tired. Go take a break."  
  
"But, commander, what about - "  
  
" _Go._ "  
  
That look right then was mostly indifferent, and almost murderous.  
  
So, she turned around. If she intruded any longer, she would probably end up becoming even more deranged.  
  
"One thing."  
  
She paused at the door.  
  
"Stay away from this chamber. Relay this order to everyone in the Corp. I'm counting on you, Hange."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
She left, closing the door behind her.  
  
Erwin looked down at the sleeping figure perched on his lap. Innocent, beautiful thing, covered by his cloak. A metaphorical passing of responsibilities. Eren was his wings, his beyond the horizon, his little sanctuary.  
  
"You're safe, Eren. No one will dare take you from me."  
  
He kissed the pale lips, feeling the nakedness of the sleeping boy under the meek covering. So naked, bare, and so much Eren, all of him here, in front of him, laying pliantly against his chest and resting on his thighs. What else mattered?  
  
Nothing.  
  
He licked down the sloping curve of Eren's neck, to his collarbone, leaving gentle marks, as he parted the green cloak from the steadily discolored skin. The young soldier did nothing to stop him, and Erwin took it as a sign of acceptance.   
  
"And you..." he murmured into the latter's ear, "can't run from me, no matter where you go, Eren. Do you understand?" He let a smile slip. "Of course you do. I'm the only one you need."

\-------------

\------

\---

-

_"Commander, sir."  
  
Erwin looked up from the paperwork, his eyes locking on the forest green. He smiled in welcome, and the young cadet shifted his feet, a royal flush reddening his cheeks. Setting aside the request for an additional supply of gas from the arms sector, Erwin motioned for the boy to speak.   
  
Eren nodded, a spark of determination in his vibrant eyes.   
  
That face, brimming with cute enthusiasm, never failed to make him smile.   
  
Halfway through the speech (Erwin managed to tune out, somehow, even though he was a great listener - he had to be, as a leader - but he was pretty sure it had to do with capturing titans, courtesy of Hange, that slave driver), he found himself studying the motions of Eren's lips, how they opened and closed, how soft and inviting they looked, how they sometimes jutted out in a pout - oh, they were pouting now, weren't they?  
  
"Commander Erwin, have you been paying attention...at all?"   
  
Erwin broke off his little trance, eyes flickering up to meet the boy's knitted brows, exasperation peeking through unamused irises. It appeared that he was caught. He was about to admit that he had drifted during the speech, when he spotted a bruise on the boy's right hand. It was jagged, deep, and engraved by teeth marks. Raw and red, recent wounds.   
  
Worry clouded his expression, and Eren noticed the change.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Eren, come."  
  
The brunet stepped forward, meeting the front of Erwin's desk, confusion written over his young face.  
  
"Closer," Erwin ordered.  
  
Hesitantly, Eren obeyed, and he headed around the table to stand in front of the seated commander. "Is something wrong, sir?" he asked. His question broke off into a hitched breath when his injured hand was taken into Erwin's large palm. He winced, brows furrowing, but he stayed stationary, not wanting to disrespect his superior.   
  
Erwin took hold of the bitten hand, brushing over the damaged skin with his thumb, and the titan shifter gasped. He frowned, looking up at the teen with a stern expression. Eren's eyes shifted to the left guiltily. "Eren, when I said that you're humanity's last hope, I didn't say that you could abuse your body to the limit."  
  
"I...I know, but - "  
  
Erwin squeezed the injury, pressing down on the bitten area, and earned himself a small, unintelligible protest from the boy.   
  
"It - it hurts," Eren whimpered breathlessly, tears leaking in the corners of his brilliant eyes. "S-sir." It was high-pitched and desperate.  
  
Erwin felt a familiar wave of heat slither down to his nether region at the sight, the breathy moan making his blood pound like he was high on sugar and caffeine. That was unfair, Jaeger. That was definitely not fair. He let go of the teen's hand, and Eren sighed in relief. He could never follow through his punishments with this boy. "No more pushing yourself, Eren," he said, a commandeering edge to his tone. No talk back, no retorts, no resistance.   
  
Eren was never one to follow rules. "But, sir, I want to aid in the 45th expedition. I feel that an additional soldier will raise the capture probability." His brows tugged closer, eyes staring boldly into Erwin's, lips pursed with determination.  
  
Stubborn little thing. Erwin surveyed the latter's stiff posture. His waist must be sore with how straight he arched his back the whole day. "And how will you accomplish that?" he questioned.   
  
"Hange said that I improved in controlling my titan form. I've been steadily increasing my awareness, and the record stands at ten minutes of complete control," Eren reported, unable to revel in his achievement in this situation, so he made sure to give his all in order to convince his commander.  
  
Erwin folded his hands together on his lap. Ten minutes was a great improvement, considering how short his previous records were. But no matter how much Eren improved, he couldn't let him go on such a dangerous mission. Capturing titans cost more lives than a regular survey expedition. The mission wasn't over until the men were down to a third, or until they successfully captured at least one titan. In the latter case, it was rare that it happened. In the former, it occurred so often that it would have been an anomaly if it didn't. There was no way he could let Eren go on such a risky expedition.  
  
"Ten minutes is certainly a great step forward, Eren," he said. The brunet cracked a proud grin. Erwin learned the way his bright green eyes glimmered when he was given a praise. He felt himself almost giving way, almost saying yes, almost letting him go. But, he couldn't. He couldn't let Eren rush to his death, or let him head into the battlefield when he wasn't there by his side. "But ten minutes is still too risky. What happens when the time runs out? What happens when you lose control? Can you guarantee that it won't happen?"   
  
However one looked at it, he was being selfish. He knew he was selfish. Another soldier on the field would increase the probability of success, especially if that soldier happened to be a titan shifter. Ten minutes could potentially be all it took to capture a titan.   
  
And it could also potentially wipe the entire brigade.   
  
But that was his selfish justification, and who could argue that he was wrong? He would do whatever it took to ensure Eren's safety. Mankind was one story, but Eren was another, and in this case, he prioritized Eren. Maybe he wasn't fit to be a leader, after all, but he was human. And he was a human who had fallen in love. Maybe if he hadn't fallen for this green-eyed soldier, he would be able to let him go, easily._  
  
Maybe if it were that simple, he could have let him go, and not feel like he was suffocating, like he was buried deep underground, with no air.   
  
And maybe, just maybe, if he hadn't let him go, he would be embracing Eren, a live Eren. An Eren that didn't have his life drained out of him. An Eren that wasn't lying like a still doll, so pitifully lifeless, so painfully gone, in his embrace. An Eren that would return his kisses and bury his head into his neck, like they were made to mold together, body against body, skin complementing skin, lips brushing against lips.   
  
In the end, the maybes were maybes, as fictional as his imagination.   
  
 _"If that happens, corporal Levi and the Special Ops will be there. If I lose control, they will be at the ready. I'm their responsibility, they told me, and I believe that they will follow through to the end."  
  
His eyes were shining in the sun. He looked like he believed every last word. And he did believe every last word.  
  
"They will save me."_  
  
Eren was sleeping so peacefully. Erwin cupped his face gently, tracing his earlobes, his jaw, his nape, where his fingers grazed the abominable scar, where he had to control every fiber and nerve to not lash out and  _break_  something.  
  
 _"And if they can't save me, then they will kill me. I'm prepared for anything, commander Erwin."_  
  
"'I'm prepared for anything,'" Erwin repeated, monotonously.   
  
Eren's eyelids were closed, hiding his brilliant greens.   
  
"Did you stop to think about whether  _I_  was prepared?"  
  
Eren had no response, but a corpse wouldn't have a response.  
  
If only he were less of a soldier, and more of an average boy. But if he were anything but the daredevil, the stubborn Eren Jaeger, with his tenacity and all the things that made him endearing and irresistible, he wouldn't be Eren,  _his_  Eren. 

_"Then promise me something, Eren."  
  
"Anything."  
  
Erwin stood up, staring down at Eren with an indescribable emotion rearing in his cool, blue eyes. They held the gaze for countless seconds, and then Erwin pulled the latter into him, wrapping his arms around the stunned teen, grasping him tightly.  
  
Face pressed to the commander's chest and held securely in a warm embrace, Eren found himself speechless, puzzled, yet unexplainably happy. "Commander?" he said, muffled against the collared shirt, barely able to squeeze out the word in the cramped space.  
  
"Promise that you'll come back to me. Promise me this, Eren, and I'll let you go."  
  
Eren leaned into the warmth, and Erwin felt the hesitant hands come around to hug his back.   
  
"I promise." And then, a small, shy whisper, "Erwin." _  
  
"You called my name, and then you came back, like this," Erwin murmured, couldn't find the strength to scold the teen, and he sounded dead like Eren was dead.  
  
He might be breaking, but he was the commander, mankind's only leader, and he had always been so cool-headed, collected, and logical. If he were breaking, he couldn't tell.  
  
Maybe he wasn't breaking.  
  
He might be intact.  
  
"You're cruel, Eren."  
  
He unbuttoned the green cloak, and the gap between the cloth revealed Eren's lean, combat body. His tanned skin, losing its color in the paleness, his toned abs, his limp member, his legs, spread on Erwin's lap.  
  
"You're beautiful, even lifeless. And now, you can't call my name, anymore."  
  
He might be sick.  
  
Eren made him sick.  
  
"You're so cruel, Eren." He chuckled airily.   
  
Something warm, wet, droplets, slid down his cheeks. He didn't know he could still cry.  
  
Maybe he was broken.


	2. Mankind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Backpedal if you're not friendly with necrophilia.  
> && hi op!  
> &&& thanks for the read and support. It's always fun to meet people as twisted as me ;D

This world isn't kind.  
  
You have to take what you can get, if you want to survive.  
  
But if you only take what you get, you only live the bare minutes to pass for another day.  
  
Erwin Smith wasn't a minimalist, and he certainly didn't do things in half measures.  
  
To take it to extremes, he would be a maximalist. In order to lead the Recon Corp, to death and beyond, to reach the hopeful horizon, he did everything within his power to push mankind to its potential.   
  
So he swore to take more than he could get, because he didn't want to simply survive.   
  
He wanted to  _live_.   
  
And in his mind, he was seeing a visage with torn down walls, slaughtered titans, and a bright eyed Jaeger by his side.  
  
 _That_  was what he wanted to  _live_.  
  
Not this.  
  
Not this coldness, not this motionless figure, not this bloodless remain, not this carcass drenched meat, not this empty mannequin, not this Eren, who was dead, who he needed to pretend wasn't dead, who was dead (wasn't he?), who shouldn't be, not this -  
  
Not this cold cavern wrapped around his member.   
  
Not this expressionless doll.  
  
Not this close-lidded face.  
  
Not this corpse that didn't say things in Eren's voice, that didn't open the brilliant green eyes that Eren had, that didn't shyly murmur things like  _Commander Erwin_  or  _I promise, Erwin_  that Eren used to say, that didn't go on determined tangents about titans that Eren routinely let loose, that didn't warm his body up with the intense titan heat that Eren carried, that didn't,  _wasn't_ , couldn't be,  _not his Eren_.  
  
But what was so wrong, what was so twisted, what was so sick, was that he was violating Eren, the dead Eren, the corpse Eren.   
  
So wrong. He was so wrong.  
  
"Relax, Eren. Take me in slowly."   
  
Not that it stopped him.   
  
"Don't hurt yourself."  
  
He was beyond salvation.  
  
So twisted.  
  
The heatless, puckered entrance, lubricated with cold, candle oil was prepared by Erwin's fingers. Now it was pressed against his erected cock, torturously opening and sucking in his shaft, inch by inch.   
  
He breathed sharply, " _Eren_."  
  
And he was in, to the hilt, Eren wrapped around him, so tight, so cold, he couldn't find the warmth, because there was no warmth. But it was Eren, and he was so sick.  
  
Because it was Eren, he was aroused. He couldn't stop himself, couldn't control his twisted desires, couldn't help this crooked love, he was no longer the people's commander. He was committing the most forbidden sin, and he couldn't stop himself, no, he couldn't stop, at all.  
  
He grasped Eren's head and pulled him closer, kissing his pale, dry lips. He was almost used to the lack of response now. It hurt that he already surrendered to the ill reality. Eren tasted like a bloody battlefield; he tasted death, bitter, sour, and sweet. He felt the latter's chilled body, felt the skin, the bruises from the expedition, the bruises from the maneuver gear, bruises everywhere, and they shouldn't be beautiful, but they were, as he caressed the beloved face, stroking Eren's blue-tinted cheeks.   
  
"Do you enjoy this?" he breathed into the latter's ear, throaty and guttural, coated by pleasure. He fondled Eren's ass, sinking his fingers into the cold flesh, leaving white imprints, as he thrusted up into the tight cavern, feeling the ridges rub against his cock. His breath shuttered, and Eren's head dropped onto his shoulder. "Do you enjoy...breaking your commander, like this?" he grunted, and his arms reached around to grab the small, innocent brunet, holding him tightly, like he was his only lifeline, because he was his only lifeline, and he didn't know who was suffocating more.  
  
"Do you enjoy making me," he panted, the slick sounds of their bodies as they connected and departed, only to connect again, causing him to lapse in and out, unable to think clearly, "making me lose my mind?"  
  
Eren moved with him as he pounded up into his tender ass, because he was just an empty doll that had no life of his own. He was just a corpse that had his life taken from him.  
  
"I'm asking you a question, Eren."  
  
But he was going to leave without an answer.  
  
Erwin felt along the bones in the brunet's spine, treasuring every centimeter of his lifeless body that he couldn't treasure before. He should've done this, all of this, before Eren left. Before he let him go, and now look at him, he was losing it, wasn't he.  
  
"Or is this your answer?" he murmured.   
  
 _"Promise that you'll come back to me."_  
  
He caressed the lean muscles of Eren's thigh and then moved to touch the flaccid member, stroking the limp length with tender motions.  
  
 _"Promise me this, Eren, and I'll let you go."_  
  
Eren leaned into the crook of his neck, soft hair tickling his skin.  
  
 _"I promise."_  
  
Erwin sucked in air, desperate, like he was having difficulty breathing, because he was having difficulty breathing.  
  
The memory flashes blinded him. Eren, he was seeing Eren. He was seeing his smiles, his laughs, his boiling anger, his raw determination, his eyes, his green eyes, god, he missed those beautiful eyes, fuck, he missed  _him_.  
  
 _"Erwin."_  
  
And he was burying his face in Eren's chestnut hair, smelling the scent of pine trees, the scent of blood, the scent of death, and he was more broken than Wall Maria.  
  
 _"I promise...Erwin."_  
  
The sound of a strangled animal, a dying whimper, a tortured organism, met his ears, and it took him a while, for his ears felt clogged, to figure out that that strangled animal -   
  
\- was him.  
  
He was sobbing.   
  
He had never felt so uncontrolled.   
  
He was losing his mind.  
  
"Come back to me, Eren. You promised. You  _promised_." His voice was escalating. He didn't sound like himself. He just sounded like the broken families the Survey Corp returned to after every expedition.  
  
He wasn't commander Erwin Smith.  
  
He wasn't the stoic leader, the serious soldier, the mysterious Recon Corp captain, the man survivors relied on, the commander that no one anticipated would break from a single death.  
  
He was just Erwin, a man like any other, a man who lost his most precious being, a broken man who was drowning in his sorrow, a man who had fallen and had no reason to get up.   
  
He was just a man.  
  
"C-come back,  _Eren_."   
  
His deep voice cracked, he was sobbing, he was crying, he was rasping, he was croaking, he was dying, and he was so alive.  
  
 _Shclk. Schlk._  
  
His thrusts were getting feverish, he was close, and his hands couldn't find the heartbeat pulsing under Eren's naked skin, no matter how many times he searched, despite how hopeful he was every time he passed the boy's jugular.   
  
"Where are you, Eren?" he asked. "I can't find you," he said.  
  
And Eren let him ask, let him talk to a nonexistent ghost, let him act as if he were alive.  
  
He brushed the brown bangs back until he could see the latter's eyelids clearly.  
  
"I'll find you," he promised. "No matter where you go, so don't run too fast, or you'll trip. I don't want to see you in anymore pain, Eren." The sentence broke into a shuddering breath.  
  
He grasped Eren's hips, grinding into the teen's loosened ass, his own body perspiring, covered in a sheen of salty sweat.  
  
"Wait for me. You have to...wait," he groaned, barely able to hang onto these words, "and that's...an...order."  
  
He marked the tanned column with a deep suck, and the bruise showed up quickly, marring Eren's neck beautifully.  
  
"Call my name, Eren. Say 'Erwin,' just like how you did...before you..."  
  
 _"Erwin."  
  
"I promise...Erwin."_  
  
Erwin's body convulsed, the memory of Eren's shy voice making him come undone, and he emptied into the brunet's lifeless body, rivulets of the sticky white leaking out of his puckered hole, sliding down Erwin's still entrapped cock.   
  
"Come back...come back...why don't you come back to me... _Eren_ ," he sobbed into the latter's neck.  
  
He stayed inside Eren, unable to let go.   
  
He was completely broken.  
  
He was human, after all.  
  
Eren had broken him.  
  
Eren made him human.  
  
He looked at their intertwined bodies, at Eren's serene face, at how violated his corpse was, at how much  _he_  violated Eren's corpse, and slowly, gradually, the horror set in.  
  
 _What have I done...?_

\------------------

\--------------

\-----

\--

"Corporal."  
  
Levi glanced back, seeing Petra with a bouquet of white flowers in her hand. Her ginger hair was plastered to her face from the continuous downpour of rain.   
  
"Do you think..." she started, trailing off when Levi took the bouquet from her. She swallowed the rest of her words and watched as the corporal placed the flowers on the weathered gravestone.   


 

Eren Jaeger

  
  
Her eyes widened as she scrolled down the tombstone, taking in the newly inscribed words below the name.   


 

8xxx - 8xxx  
Proud soldier of the Survey Corp.  
We will remember until the day we perish.  
R.I.P

  
  
Levi rested his palm on the wet slate, looking down at the engraved letters, scowl prominent but expression unreadable. Drops of rainwater slid down his cheeks.   
  
 _Do you think we made the right choice?_  
  
The maneuver blade that Levi used to carve the message on the granite was laid on the tomb, next to the bouquet of white lilies.   
  
Petra covered her mouth with a hand and turned her head.  
  
Levi swiveled around, his green cloak billowing against the chilly wind. He walked past her, the bloodstained edge of the cloth brushing her shaking fingers.  
  
"Let's go, Petra."  
  
She watched his back, the remorseful tears clouding her vision.  
  
 _I don't know. We never know. You did your job. That's all. We have no one to blame._  
\----------------

  
\----------

  
\------

  
\--  
  
"Hange."  
  
"Yes, sir!"  
  
"Care to elaborate on why your dumbass is blocking the hallway?"  
  
Hange stood in front of the short man, a mediocrely pissed off Levi, and responded with an awful attempt at ignorance, "Hmm, uh, I wonder why? Ahahah - "  
  
Levi grounded his shoe into the scientist's foot, and Hange toppled over with a yowl.   
  
"If you need to take a shit, don't fucking do it in the damn hallway, shitty four-eyes. Don't make the people with proper etiquette throw up."  
  
Hange nursed her throbbing foot. "Ow, ow, yowch, you sure have a sadistic streak in ya, corporal! And I wasn't taking a shit. I was standing guard."  
  
"Standing guard?" Levi raised a skeptical brow.  
  
Standing to her full height and towering over humanity's strongest, Hange grinned down at the steadily more aggravated by the second Levi. "Commander Erwin says to  _let none pass_ , and so I'm letting none pass, which includes you, corporal Levi."   
  
"Erwin said that?"  
  
"Yes, sir. And," Hange lowered her face, an ominous tone slipping into her voice, "I wouldn't bother him if I were you."  
  
Levi tugged the brunette down harshly, putting his dark, unamused face to full display. "This is getting ridiculous, and I'm at the point where I'm about ready to break down Erwin's fucking door, grab the shitty brat's corpse, and throw him somewhere that's not _here_. Do you get me, Hange?" he growled, yanking the bolo tie for good measure.  
  
Hange choked.  
  
"Eren's dead. I can't trust a man who traps himself in a sick fantasy. And if I can't trust Erwin, then humanity just fucked itself, because we're just going to rot in fat titan juices after all the sacrifices we've made. Just like that." Levi let go of Hange's collar.  
  
The scientist gasped to regain her breath.  
  
Levi pushed her aside, only to meet blank, blue eyes, shrouded under the stream of moonlight.  
  
Erwin had stepped out of his private chamber, his usually groomed appearance in complete disarray. Tussled blonde hair, missing tie, and wrinkled uniform. So unlike the aristocratic Erwin Smith. Levi had never seen this side of the commander, had never witnessed such a broken version of his flawless comrade, and had never expected to see him like this.   
  
"You're right, Levi."  
  
It was the same smooth, solemn voice, but there was an underlying difference. He could hear it, that empty tone.  
  
In the man's arms was a cloaked figure. It lay in Erwin's hold, unmoving and lifeless.   
  
Levi didn't need to look in detail to know what it was.  _Who_  it was. The nauseating smell of carcass smothered the air, and he felt bile rise from his gut.   
  
"A man who lives in the depths of selfish fabrications will only lead his men to death."  
  
 _Tap. Tap._  
  
Erwin headed toward them, the echoes of his steps eerie in the narrow hallway. The stench of the dead pungent, and Levi had to refrain from covering his nose. Hange made an excited noise next to him.  
  
"Hange," the tall man addressed her. She nodded, lenses gleaming in the fraction of light. Erwin slowly extended his arms, offering the motionless body to the scientist.  
  
Levi watched it all, metallic eyes not missing a single movement. He saw the serene face of the deceased in the dark night. Eren. He watched as Hange carefully took him in her arms, respectfully keeping her excitement at bay. The victorious gleam behind her glasses didn't fool Levi. He turned his attention back to Erwin.  
  
The man had a stone face. The only indication of a difference in his demeanor was the very inconspicuous tightening of oceanic irises.  
  
That alone was enough to confirm to Levi that the stoic commander was truly suffering.  
  
"Freeze him."  
  
He must have been broken beyond repair.  
  
"Don't let me see him."  
  
How did he manage to dig himself back out?  
  
"Until we, as humanity, triumph."  
  
Hange straightened up, feet pressed together. "Yes, sir."   
  
Erwin turned his back, Levi walked past him, and Hange left, heading to her lab.  
  
They were humans, animals that thrived by emotions and feelings. As humans, they had to win this war. They had no choice but to prevail.

-  
  
Hange looked down at the sleeping face in her arms. She smiled a small, solemn smile.  _Rest in peace._

-  
  
Levi ended up in the basement, where the training facility for Survey soldiers was. He cut down a stuffed titan in the target practice area and watched the thing crumble to the floor.  _Rest in peace._

-  
  
Erwin was in the cathedral. The funeral incense hung in the air. He was never religious, but the sins on his shoulders lifted like they were being cleansed. He looked at the grey statues of gods and goddesses as they gazed back, such holy beings. He felt like a sinner in the eyes of heaven.  
  
"Rest in peace now, Eren," he said, his low prayer ringing in the vacant cathedral. "I'll come back to you, as soon as mankind triumphs."  
  
And he sighed, the cold wind wafting in from the open church wrapping him from behind, just like the arms of his angel up in heaven.  
  
"Wait for me, Eren."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had different endings in mind, and wasn't particularly happy with any of them. Alas, I got one. and still aint that happy. but hey.  
> hope it was a fun ride.  
> you and I are going to hell together, see you soon  
> your prince ~~lancecorporalrori~~ , signing out

**Author's Note:**

> [dokii's beautiful rendition of scene](http://titanjaeger.co.vu/post/82170991377/the-single-chair-was-occupied-by-erwin-hand)  
>  drop dokii some love and reblog!


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